Shoes
by The Real Damien Thorn
Summary: "It wasn't until they'd been driving in the car for forty minutes and Christophe saw that fancy shopping center Gregory liked so much come into his view, that he realized the mistake he'd made." In which Gregory makes Christophe tag along to help him pick out shoes.


**I went with my friend to help her buy shoes. This fic was inspired by that ordeal. Enjoy! X)**

When Gregory had said, "Let's go," Christophe had been too deep in his anti-God thoughts that he hadn't even thought about where they were going, just that his boyfriend had told him to follow him.

It wasn't until they'd been driving in the car for forty minutes and Christophe saw that fancy shopping center Gregory liked so much come into his view, that he realized the mistake he'd made. "Wait, where are we going?" he asked nervously, already knowing the answer but wanting the blond beside him to confirm it.

Gregory was silent for a while, turning into the plaza and looking around for somewhere to park. He gave a side glance at Christophe. "I need new shoes."

The Frenchman put a hand to his head in annoyance, leaning against the window. Gregory circled the lot a few times before finally pulling into a spot. Christophe turned to glare at him. "What's wrong with the ones you're wearing?"

"Let's _go_ , Christophe," Gregory urged, getting out of the car. He waited for his boyfriend to get out, watching him slam the car door before pushing the button to lock it. He gave the brunet a warning glance. "Mole."

Christophe muttered an insincere apology, following behind the Brit begrudgingly. "Why didn't you tell me we were coming here? I could have stayed home."

"You've been trapped in that damn house since you got back," Gregory said, sighing when Christophe refused to hold his hand. "I thought it'd be nice if we both got out and did something."

"I enjoy staying home," Christophe argued. "I don't need to go out. I'm perfectly happy staying home where I have everything I need."

"Don't try and tell me you weren't going stir-crazy in there, Christophe," Gregory chided. He led him to his favorite shoe store, already forgetting their argument in favor of walking down an aisle to inspect the shoes. "Come here and help me choose a pair."

Christophe huffed but followed, not wanting to be stopped by any of the salespeople, who would try to get him to buy shoes himself. "Just hurry up so we can go." He glanced around, finding a chair nearby and sitting down onto it, watching as Gregory took a few pairs off their shelves and set them down, determined to try each one.

"Which one looks better, 'Tophe?" Gregory asked, holding two identical shoes in front of the Frenchman.

Christophe frowned, looking from the shoes up to Gregory. "They're the same…"

"They are not the same!" Gregory sighed, pointing out their differences in excruciating detail. "Now, which one should I get?"

"That one," the mercenary-for-hire said, pointing to the one in Gregory's left hand. Hell if he knew.

"Are you sure? Or are you just saying that so we can leave faster?" Gregory put both pairs back. "I'm not liking that style anymore, let me find something else." Christophe nearly whined as he leaned back in the chair, watching the blond for another five minutes as he took more shoes off their shelves, comparing them side by side.

"Gregory-"

"Christophe, I'm asking your opinion." The Brit held another two identical shoes toward the brunet. "Which one do you think I'd be more attractive in?"

Christophe looked at the shoes and then back up to Gregory. "I think you look attractive no matter what you wear, Gregory."

"Useless! Do I even want your opinion?" The blond turned away, studying the shoes in front of him before gasping loudly, hurrying to a pair that seemed to be isolated from the rest. "These are the ones I'm getting."

Christophe perked up. "Really? They look great, let's go." They looked no different than any of the other ones his boyfriend had thrown at his face, but if they were what the blond wanted.

Gregory nodded, checking the price tag. "Oh, lord. We can't get these! This is outrageous!" He turned to put them back, jumping when Christophe yelled out. The Frenchman grabbed Gregory's shoulder, turning him around and thrusting his wallet in his face.

"I'll buy them, Gregory, just please go check out."

"You…you'd do that for me?" the blond asked, truly touched. He held the shoes to his chest. "You don't have to do that."

"Those shoes are perfect for you, mon cher," Christophe said desperately. "You can't let such a good thing pass. Go buy them."

Gregory gingerly took his partner's old wallet before leaning forward and kissing him. "Thank you, 'Tophe, that's very nice of you. I promise I'll pay you back."

"No need," Christophe said, holding a hand up. "I just want you to be happy." Gregory practically swooned, walking up to the counter and buying the damned shoes, happy that his boyfriend would do something so touching.

Anything to get out of this hell hole.


End file.
